To Disown or Not to Disown
by Emmeebee
Summary: Walburga Black, for all of her carefully concealed faults, cares for both of her sons deeply. Still, the issue with Sirius is getting worse, and she knows that she will have to act soon if she's to preserve the family name.


A/N:  
Paragraph Challenge – Rubeus Hagrid  
Character Versatility Challenge – Walburga Black, Orion Black  
If You Dare Challenge – displeased

* * *

 _Rightful heirs are more trouble than their entitled little smirks are worth,_ Walburga Black concluded as she paced the perimeter of dining room. The Blacks were known for their stubbornness, but she'd never imagined her oldest son would use his against her in such a way. But, alas, he had decided to not only let the Sorting Hat place him in Gryffindor, which was horrid enough, but also to publicly support the quaint notion of mudblood 'rights'. If only parents could choose which child they wanted to inherit the family title and wealth, then she could be content in the knowledge that Orion's eventual successor would hold true to their family values. As it was, however, there was no way to bypass someone unless the family magic itself deemed them unworthy. And, for all that she was irritated with Sirius' recent decisions, she doubted that that would be the case with him. Overall, she was left with no option but to hope that Sirius would eventually return to her way of thinking.

 _Unless,_ a small and dark part of her mind murmured, _you take him off the family tree altogether. Drastic times call for drastic measures, as they say. How determined are you to keep the bloodline pure and noble?_

Bringing a glass of firewhiskey to her lips, she forced herself not to shy away from that thought. The idea of disowning one of her children was extreme and heartbreaking, but it did have a grain of undeniable truth. For years, Sirius had made his contempt of the House of Black perfectly clear to those around him. She still remembered the fleet of letters she'd received after Sirius and that Potter boy had, foolish boys that they were, accepted their first invitations to Horace's Slug Club. They had ignored the unwritten rule that pureblood heirs, despite receiving invitations in their first year as a sign of respect, should politely refuse any invitations until they were older and more mature. Then, in front of his cousins, he had insulted the House of Black and made a mockery of the three older girls. If things with Sirius continued the way they were going – and she had no reason to believe they wouldn't – then she would be forced to make a decision to either accept that he would continually slight the House of Black or disown him entirely.

Even though it would be unseemly and agonising to renounce him, it would be worse to allow him to continue wreaking havoc on the family name. Letting his actions continue unchecked would be seen as tantamount to publicly endorsing his behaviour.

Unity was vital to the social standing of a family like theirs. While that meant protecting the reputations of relatives, it also meant being willing to cut them off if they, as a reasonably rational free agent, did something completely antithetical to the family's morals.

Sirius was, as much as she hated to admit it, walking awfully close to that line. He had gotten a pass for the things he'd done as a child due to the fact that he was young; most of Walburga's circle of acquaintances had declared that he, while being most untoward and showing a lack of resolve that she really should work on rectifying, was merely being misled by his housemates. After all, one of her closer friends had said in an attempt to sway their viewpoints in her favour, he had always been fervent about everything he did and that, while boding well for the family's future dealings, would make him susceptible to the Gryffindors' wild ideas and ways. Years of curtailing conversations and purposefully evoking empathy for her well-meaning but wayward son had protected him from the full weight of the public's scrutiny. Still, there were only so many ways she could twist the truth before its rumples were evident for all to see, and Sirius was getting awfully close to the age of majority. As a result, his toes were still on the right side of the line – the _proper_ side of the line – but he was close enough that an unexpected gust of wind might be enough to make him stumble over that margin.

Her mind was so intently focused on the burgeoning dilemma that she didn't hear the sound of her husband approaching her until he was standing right in front of her. "I take it you've heard the news," he commented as he appraised her.

Angrily huffing at the reminder, she turned and stormed over to sit at the table. "Yes," she replied tersely, "I have. Publicly _kissing_ a mudblood and lauding Muggle philosophers and theorists… I honestly don't know where we went wrong with that boy. We raised him the same as we raised dear Regulus, and yet…" She threw her arms up in a show of exasperation. "I don't know what to do with him."

Grim-faced, Orion moved to sit across from her. They sat in silent contemplation for a few minutes; she returned to trying to brainstorm ways to reconnect with their oldest son and, by the look on her husband's face, she rather suspected that his thoughts were similarly occupied. Then, when she was beginning to think that they might spend all evening sitting there in stumped silence, his gaze refocused on hers. His voice sounded dull and strained when he eventually said, "Neither do I. I'm afraid it might be too late for correction. He doesn't recognise us as having authority over him anymore, and the opinion of those blood traitor friends of his are more important to him than any title."

Resignation flooded through her like an Anaesthetic Potion, dampening all other emotions with the force of its sweeping tide. "There is one other option," she pointed out tentatively. While she had entertained the notion herself with confidence, albeit not with eagerness, voicing it aloud was a different matter entirely. "Regulus would make a reputable Lord Black."

"I don't know if I could do that," he admitted, immediately – as she had known he would – grasping the meaning hidden in the crevices of her words. "Whatever his faults, he's still our son."

Disownment was drastic, to be sure. But, as devastating as it would be to disavow their own son, she knew that, one day, they might not have any other choice. There was only so much leeway they could give before the rope stretched taut and had to be abandoned or reeled back in. Should the day come where Sirius reached the end of his rope, she was determined to step up and do what had to be done. The Blacks had remained pure for centuries; she wasn't going to be the person to break that tradition, and neither was any son of hers. "I think I could," she confessed.


End file.
